


Captain Phasma Vs. The Last Jedi

by LibKat



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV), Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Star Wars Setting, Angst, Character Death, F/M, Unhappy Ending, not cersei friendly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-02
Updated: 2018-12-02
Packaged: 2019-09-05 14:50:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,584
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16812853
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LibKat/pseuds/LibKat
Summary: Jedi Knight Jaime Lannistar faces his greatest challenge.





	Captain Phasma Vs. The Last Jedi

**Author's Note:**

> This was supposed to be a fun little crack fic, but it took a hard right turn to angsty. Warning: character death.
> 
> Inspired by a wonderful piece of fan art I saw and a thread on Jaime and Brienne Online.
> 
> Disclaimer: Disclaimer: A Song of Ice and Fire, Game of Thrones and these characters belong to a whole bunch of people who are not me. I will return them undamaged when I am finished playing with them.

Jamie Lannistar was taken by the Empire not by force but by trickery.

He had received intelligence that the lost princess of Winterfell, half-sister of the Rebellion’s leader, was being held in the Stoneheart Caverns on the second planet of the Clegane system. When he reached the center of the maze of caves, the roof was brought down on him using a light grenade, knocking him unconscious.

When Jamie swam back up to awareness, there was the familiar feeling of it coursing through his veins. Dragon Venom, the only substance in the galaxy that could cut a Jedi off from The Force. 

The stale taste of recycled air told him he was no longer on the planet but in a cell on board a space station. Strapped into a discipline chair, he was barely able to move.

Jaime tried to fight the effects brought on by the poison, even though he knew it to be futile. He tried to reach out to determine who had taken him prisoner and felt the horrible emptiness of Force blindness.

He did not know how long he waited. His normal ability to perceive the passage of time was dulled along with all his other senses. 

But the servants of the Empress should know better. The growing anxiety a normal person would experience while waiting in such a place was not an issue for a Jedi Master. Though the contemplation of what torture could be waiting for him would have disturbed him were his mind not so disciplined.

Finally, the hatch slid open. A shadowy figure pause there.

_No! Not her!_

She was close to two meters tall in her bright armor, a black cape edged in red flowing over one shoulder. Her face was covered entirely by a mask. Her voice, when she spoke, was filtered through a vocal filter, tinny and metallic.

“Master Jaime Lannistar. We have been waiting a long time to capture you.”

“Sorry to keep you waiting, wench. I know it has been a while since patience was one of your virtues.”

_Keep the walls up, Jaime. Keep your feelings a bay. Rage will gain you nothing here, only make you more vulnerable._

“Do not call me that, Jedi. I am Captain Phasma of Her Majesty’s Lords of the Sith.”

“Not Darth Phasma?” Jaime interrupted, injecting as much sarcasm into his voice as it could hold. His voice could hold quite a lot. He’d had enough practice.

“Her Majesty has not yet conferred that honor upon me. Your capture should greatly impress her with my devotion to duty.”

“Ah, yes, wench, we both know how Her Majesty is so generous with her rewards.”

“You will address me properly, Jedi, or your tongue will be the first thing you lose.”

Even through the vocal filter you could hear the irritation in her voice. Score one for the Lannistar charm.

“Come now, wench. How could you torture me for information if you took my tongue? The people you interrogate in this contraption can’t be very intelligent if they fall for a threat like that. Has fear of you made the whole population of the galaxy stupid?” Jaime tried to keep his voice insouciant, though his skin crawled each time the metallic tone reached his ears.

“Fear of me, fear of the might of Her Majesty’s glorious empire has broken the backs of more worlds than you can imagine, Jedi. It will break you as well. Shall we begin?”

The clamps holding him to the chair tightened, even though Jamie thought they were as viciously confining as possible. Implements and syringes appeared from hidden recesses of the chair with a wave of the wench’s hand.

“Where is Jon Snow’s hidden base? Which planets still give support to you rebel scum?”

Jaime braced his body for pain as well as he could, as his mind retreated from the horror he was experiencing. That was not a Jedi trick. He had been taught to dissociate long before he entered the Order.

He was not able to retreat far enough to keep from screaming.

***

Born into one of the most prominent families in the Republic, Jaime was earmarked for greatness from his conception. His father, Senator Lannistar, leader of the entire Golden Federation, had been a feared leader since his early manhood. Feared and never beloved.

Tywin Lannistar made his mark with the brutal suppression of the outlaws from the Castamere system. His reputation for cold calculation had only grown since then.

His two children, “the Golden Twins”, Jaime and Cersei, were seen as valuable assets by their father rather than as loved offspring. Tywin paraded them before presidents and princes, senators and oligarchs. The children’s behavior on such occasions led to them being thought to be as cold and arrogant as Tywin himself, though they had not yet reached eight standard years.

Senator Tywin’s habit of displaying his beauteous offspring backfired on him in a spectacular and embarrassing way. 

Young Jaime, a sensitive boy with a romantic soul, was mad to meet Arthur Dawnlight, the greatest of the Jedi masters. He pestered his father constantly about it, sometimes in public, before other prominent citizens. To quiet the questions of why the boy was not being allowed to meet his idol, the Senator arranged a party that most of the senior knights of the Jedi order were induced to attend.

On the day of that party, Jaime was too excited and anxious to adhere to his highly regimented daily routine. He slipped out of the nursery long before he and Cersei were supposed to appear at the party, even before his nanny brought the foul tasting “health tonic” that he and sister drank before any public event. He wandered the grounds unaccompanied by his usual attendants and guards. He felt free in his thoughts and feelings in a way he could not ever remember experiencing. 

When he finally encountered Master Dawnlight, Jaime could not contain his excitement, and suddenly his unknown connection to The Force burst into being, as powerful as any the Jedi had ever encountered.

When a child demonstrated such abilities, such raw talent, it was a law of the highest order that the child had to be given to the Jedi. Not even Senator Tywin’s power could overrule that dictate, especially since many found it suspicious that there had been no previous evidence that his son was so gifted.

Though at seven standard years old, it was considered late for Jaime to begin his Jedi training, Master Dawnlight himself vowed to shepherd the boy to full control of his abilities with the Light Side of The Force.

Jaime was given a final night with his family before leaving for the Jedi Temple. There was no fond farewell from anyone. 

The servants who had smiled at him and rushed to fill his every need, who had called him “young ser Jaime” with respect and deference in their voices, barely glanced at him as he made the long walk to his father’s study after the party guests had departed far earlier than expected.

“Idiot boy!” His father shouted at him. “I told you never to leave the nursery without your medicines. I told you never to go anywhere unless Gregor was by your side. You’ve injured our family with your willfulness, Jaime. It will take me years to recoup my position after what you have done.” 

And his father turned his back on Jaime and said no more. Jaime left his presence near to tears.

Jaime went to find his sister, who he loved more than his life. It had always been he and Cersei against the galaxy. She shook off his embrace before he had gotten an arm around her shoulders.

“How could you be so stupid, brother? Father’s rules were for our protection. You’ve ruined everything and for what?”

“It was Arthur Dawnlight, Cersei. The hero of a hundred battles! The man who slew Darth Aegon. The pilot who threaded the Needle on Sunspear!”

“He is nothing but a servant, for all his magic mummery! A fool barely worthy of our notice.”

“Don’t speak about him that way! He is a Jedi Master! And he is going to train me to become one as well.”

“He is going to take you away from me. It was supposed to be us, Jaime, me and you. And now you’ll be gone forever and I’ll be all alone.”

A single, crystal tear trailed down Cersei’s cheek. At the sight of it, Jaime was almost willing to give up his ambition to be a Jedi, his thirst to bring light and order to the galaxy. But he could not do that now, even if he wanted to. The law was the law.

He reached for his sister again to comfort her and himself. But she turned her back on him and walked away, slamming the door to her bedchamber behind her. He listened for her sobs but heard only silence.

Jaime Lannistar spent his last night in his ancestral home all alone, rejected by his family, abandoned by the servants and retainers he had known all his life.

***

Once he reached the Jedi Temple, Jaime had no time to mourn the separation from his family. He was in a daily struggle to prove himself to the other students, his teachers, and the Jedi Council. A Force-sensitive who had not begun the training before the age of four standard years was thought to be more susceptible to the temptations of the Dark Side. His father’s reputation for ruthlessness and Jaime’s own arrogance, instilled by his privileged upbringing, also led many to doubt him. The other students in his age group had been together already for years already, were advanced in their studies and Jaime felt stupid for his inexperience with The Force.

Only Master Arthur championed him, even taking him on as his padawan learner when Jaime was deemed sufficiently advanced to be apprenticed to a Jedi Master. Being apprenticed to Master Dawnlight was a great honor, highly sought after amongst the students. When the honor was conveyed on Jaime, he was even more resented by his peers.

During his years in the Temple, Jaime had been isolated from the politics of the galaxy. With Master Dawnlight, he was once again witnessing the machinations of the various factions struggling for dominance in the Republic. 

It seemed that things had gotten worse in the years he had been cloistered for his training.

His master would question him closely every night when Jaime accompanied him as he represented the Jedi throughout the galaxy. Jaime realized that even Arthur was not entirely sure that he was more Jedi than Lannistar. Jaime resented the doubts that continued to follow him because of his name. But he blamed his father’s thirst for power more than he did Master Arthur.

In his eighteenth year, Jaime and Master Dawnlight were assigned to escort Senator Tywin to chair a summit called amongst the planets of the Republic to resolve the dispute between the volatile Valyrians and the rigidly proud Northern Alliance. Many other Jedi would accompany various representatives of the factions and the mediating parties. It was hoped that the combination of the Jedi’s calming influence and Tywin’s cold pragmatism would be what was needed to resolve the long-simmering enmity. The competition for dominance in the trade of lyannore, a decorative but fairly useless mineral that was highly valued by both groups nonetheless, could no longer be allowed to upset trade in the quadrant.

Tywin decided that his daughter would join him on the trip. 

Jaime had not seen or heard from his beloved sister for more than ten years. He was stunned when he laid eyes upon her after all that time.

Cersei had grown more beautiful than he could have imagined. Her hair was a riot of long, golden curls. Her green eyes glowed like the rarest emeralds. Her lips were berry ripe, calling out to be tasted. 

And her body, dear planets, her body. 

Everything that was male in Jaime, all the primal, sensual urges that his Jedi training held in check, leaped to life when he beheld her.

A Jedi was trained that he must not love individuals, only the totality of all living beings, an abstract concept. Romantic love was the death of duty. Still Jaime could not help himself. His sister, his other half, had been returned to him, more pure, more perfect, more meant for him and him alone than he could ever have dreamed.

He began to doubt his calling to the Jedi Order. What if Cersei had been right all those years ago? Jaime felt that all his senses were telling him that it was meant to be Jaime and Cersei, Cersei and Jaime, now and forever.

He neglected his responsibilities to Master Dawnlight. Jaime used the presence of the other Jedi and their padawans to disguise his real activities. He stole moments with Cersei like a thief, lying to everyone to be with her. Lying to himself.

Confused and exasperated with his padawan’s sudden unreliability, Master Arthur gave him an assignment that would send him away from the negotiations. Arthur told Jaime to use the time to contemplate his behavior, to regain perspective on his duty as a Jedi.

The night before he was to depart, Cersei sent Jaime as a message to come to her. An unnamed friend had arranged a discreet room where they could be alone together, to finally belong completely to each other. Jaime rushed to her side and spent the night buried in her passionate embrace.

Leaving the next day was the most difficult thing Jaime had ever done. The pull to stay with her, to be hers always was so strong, Jaime felt like he was tearing himself apart when he left her arms.

Everything went to hell afterward.

No one knew where the attack came from, but all of the leaders of the Valyrians, most of the Northern Alliance, Arthur Dawnlight and the other Jedi and padawans, were assassinated by some unidentified but extremely powerful weapon. Senator Lannistar, his daughter and several senators, including from one of the Alliance planets, Robert Baratheon, survived only because they had left the space station to dine on a nearby planet.

Jaime raced back and was shocked to find his beloved sister already betrothed to Senator Baratheon. She told Jaime their father was forcing the marriage on her. As one of the few surviving Alliance members, Baratheon had increased exponentially in power and standing within the Republic.

And their father was still trying to regain his preeminence after the embarrassment Jaime had caused all those years ago. She could not disappoint the family as Jaime had.

But Cersei promised they would remain true to one another in their hearts no matter what her body was forced to do. But every time Jaime saw the boorish Baratheon’s hands roaming all over Cersei, his rage grew. He needed an outlet for all the emotions he was experiencing.

Jaime turned his attention to the ones responsible for the attack and hunted them vigorously. His dedication and determination impressed the Jedi Council. Master Dawnlight had never reported Jaime’s neglect of his duties on their final assignment together. The Council had only the previous stellar reports Arthur had made on Jaime’s progress. The loss of so many Jedi and their apprentices in the attack led to the early advancement of several padawans to the status of Master, Jaime Lannistar among them.

And if his hunt took him often to the vicinity of his sister and her new husband, it went unnoticed.

Jaime spent the next five years experiencing the opposing pull between his love for Cersei and his calling to The Force. Many times, in his anger and frustration with watching his lover on the arm of another man, Jaime felt the call of the Dark Side. He could crush Baratheon with a thought if he only surrendered to it. Each time he managed to turn his face from the easy path.

In the five years he hunted, the unknown weapon was used twice more. Each time a side effect of the destruction was the advancement of the career of Robert Baratheon. Horrible suspicions entered Jaime’s mind. His heart rejected them as quickly as they occurred.

The Jedi Council became so concerned that all other knights who could be spared joined in the hunt. Evidence was found linking the attacks to the reemergence of the Order of the Sith, the Knights of the Dark Side, as the Jedi were the Knights of the Light. The leader of the Sith, Darth Leonis, became the most wanted being in the galaxy.

More disruption followed. Conflicts broke out between formerly peaceful systems. Trade wars escalated until whole planets starved while foodstuffs rotted on transports that could not find a place to dock. Black markets, smugglers and organized crime rose. 

In fear and desperation, the Senate turned to the brash and confident Robert Baratheon to lead them in a newly established office as President of the Republic with unprecedented authority. Though Baratheon occupied the chair, insiders knew that the true power was divided between Tywin Lannistar and Robert’s old mentor, Jon Cielfalco.

An uneasy calm settled on the galaxy. Other tasks were found for the Jedi that took precedence over pursuing the rumors of Sith Lords. Even Jaime reconciled himself to never knowing who was responsible for Arthur Dawnlight’s murder.

As her husband grew in stature, Cersei’s availability to, and her interest in, her brother diminished. They argued when they were together more than they fucked. Cersei was consumed with expanding the powers granted to her husband. She asked Jaime to use his Jedi skills, to use The Force to help her in her schemes. She made such requests anytime they managed to steal away to make love. At his refusal, she turned on him.

It was finally born home on Jaime how wrong his actions with his sister had been. How much they had diminished the man, the Jedi he wished to become. After he finally broke off their relationship, Jaime grew despondent for a time, but then he rallied. His mind felt clearer than it had felt in ages. He redirected his energy once again to the search for Darth Leonis.

He tracked the Sith Lord from one end of the known galaxy to the other, never noticing how closely Leonis’s path followed that of Senator Tywin Lannistar.

It was other Jedi who made the connection. Other Jedi who found the Sith Lord’s base and made the assault. It was other Jedi who fought and died to destroy the terrible space weapon that had been used in the attacks, killing Jaime’s father in the process.

Jaime mourned the father he once thought he knew, but was pleased that the Sith were broken. But the other Jedi were once again looking at him with doubt in their eyes.

Jaime had hunted the Sith for much of a decade. How had he not known his father’s secret? In the past, the leader of the Sith had taken one special apprentice as his successor should he fall. Had that successor died with the other servants of the Dark Side? Or did he reside in the heart of the Jedi order?

Jaime questioned himself as well. If he had not spent so much of those years buried in Cersei’s cunt, dreaming of being buried in Cersei’s cunt, or remembering being buried in Cersei’s cunt, would he have seen the truth earlier?

Somehow Robert Baratheon weathered the scandal of his father in law’s disgrace and remained in office. He was aided remarkably in that effort by his beautiful, immaculately garbed and coiffed wife who paraded her shock, her outrage, her sadness for all to see.

Jaime would have applauded the performance if he had been inclined to see his sister.

To place Jaime under sharper scrutiny, to tie him more closely to the Temple, the Jedi Council insisted that he take on a padawan to train. 

Brienne Merazur was the ugliest, slowest, most irritating wench in the galaxy. Except when she had a lightsaber in her hand. Then she was pure poetry.

They traveled together for three years. Three years when they grew closer, more deeply connected than Jaime had ever been with anyone else, even Cersei if he was honest with himself.

He gave Brienne confidence. She reminded him of how to be honorable. It all went swimmingly until Robert Baratheon died.

Attending the funeral with his padawan was a mistake. Jaime knew that Cersei would treat Brienne horribly. He knew that Cersei’s treatment of him could range from outright hostility to barely veiled attempts at seduction. He thought he would experience a swell of emotions in the process. He did not expect that they would be emotions about Brienne.

Brienne’s eruption into his life had been so different than when he had reconnected with his sister. Falling into love with Cersei had been overwhelming, a tsunami that swept away everything else before it. This love he realized he felt for Brienne came softly, slowly, as inevitable as the changing of the tide.

And it could not be.

Cersei was equally adept at laying Brienne’s feelings bare. His padawan, his friend, was now looking at him with naked hunger in his eyes.

That could not be either. Love is the death of duty. Jaime had learned that the hard way.

They remained in the capital long enough to see Jon Cielfalco invested as the new president. An upswell of popular demand also saw the widow Baratheon appointed as his second and the new Senator representing the Alliance planets.

Jaime avoided Brienne until they had departed to return to the Jedi Temple. He knew that Brienne was too shy to act on her desire for him. He hoped that he was honorable enough to refrain as well. But the want, the need was there. It would continue to grow and would poison their relationship, interfere with Brienne’s progress in her training. Brienne had the potential to be a brilliant Jedi, perhaps the equal of Arthur Dawnlight. Jaime just needed to get out of her way.

They were two days out from their destination when Jaime confronted her. Her flat denials, her confusion, made him crueler than he meant to be. Brienne had deduced long ago what Jaime’s relationship with Cersei had once been. She accused him that his words were a rejection solely based upon her outward ugliness, the comparison between her and the beautiful sister he had once loved. She paid no attention to anything he tried to say about her future as a Jedi, the beauty of her heart, her mind and her soul.

Unable to continue to argue against the desires of his own heart, Jaime finally declared that he was severing their relationship as Master and padawan as soon as they reached the temple. And he took himself off to his quarters.

When he awoke, Brienne was gone, the jump ship missing from their transport, the tracker disabled and the log destroyed.

Losing his promising padawan increased the Council’s suspicions of Jaime.

He was not the Lannistar they should have been concerned about.

Jon Cielfalco died under mysterious circumstances during his first year in office. Cersei ascended to the Presidency. From political wife to galactic leader in less than two years.

The Sith began to rise again at the same time.

Jaime heard rumors of Brienne’s whereabouts, her efforts to help suffering people the diminished forces of the Jedi were neglecting. He pursued her when he could. Then she vanished entirely.

And a tall, armor-clad servant of the Dark Side appeared some months later and destroyed everything in her path.

The Jedi, divided and weary, their numbers already thinned by conflict could not stand against the Sith and their Captain.

On the day the temple was destroyed by Captain Phasma, the younglings and the remaining Council members killed, Jaime was off pursuing the location of a new base weapon the Sith had built.

He missed Cersei’s coup against the Senate. He missed her assumption of the title Empress. He missed her revelation of her new name, Darth Leonisa.

***

Had it been hours? Had it been days? Or had it been only minutes that Jaime had endured pain of an intensity he had never imagined? He did not remember if he had been asked questions. He did not remember if had betrayed his allies in the Rebellion. He wept and gasped and shook as the cessation of the torture was almost as agonizing as the torture itself.

“You mind remains strong, Jedi. It will please Her Majesty. This has been only a taste of what is waiting for you when she arrives. She wishes to break you herself.”

“And when should I expect my dear sister, wench?” Jaime tried for a jaunty tone, but his voice was broken from screaming.

“The Empress will arrive when it pleases her, Jedi. Until then you will await her here.”

As Phasma turned towards the console and began to prepare another injection of Dragon Venom, Jaime stopped her with a question.

“Will I see you again before my death, wench? If not, for the friendship we once had, grant me one final request.”

Phasma did not turn, but asked, “What is it you want, Jedi?”

“Jaime. My name is Jaime.”

“What. Do. You. Want?”

“Remove your helmet. Let me look into the eyes of Brienne Merazur one last time. I have missed those eyes so much.”

A long moment passed. Jaime heard Phasma’s breathing grow rough through the vocal filter. “Brienne Merazur no longer exists.” With that flat declaration, she quickly departed the room.

More hours passed. As his senses returned, Jaime somehow knew that Phasma was watching him through the monitors. He began to talk to her.

He told her of his childhood in the Lannistar mansion, his every move dictated by his father. He told her of the substances that were daily fed to him, the guards who accompanied him everywhere. The conclusions he had finally come to, years too late, that his father had been suppressing his connection to The Force since he was a very young child. The same treatments were given to Cersei, though she had never fought against them as Jaime had.

He spoke of the joy when he had finally broken free of his confinement and felt his connection to the light for the first time. Of his father’s anger that he had escaped his machinations and his sister’s disgust with his ambition to serve rather than to rule.

Jaime spoke of Arthur Dawnlight. These were stories he had told to Brienne when she was his padawan, hungry for tales of the legendary master. Arthur’s power and his goodness. The delight of crossing lightsabers with him. Of flying on his wing when Arthur needed the freedom of speed and space.

He spoke of the darkness that loving Cersei had brought into his life. The many times he could have turned so easily. The way his sister seemed always to be waiting for something from him. Her disappointment when he failed to deliver the thing he could not admit that she wanted: his power.

He ranged through the events of his life, things Brienne knew and things he had been ashamed to tell her. His willful blindness to his father’s evil. His raging jealousy of his sister’s husband. His anger at Arthur for sending him away and then dying without him.

He spoke of his resentment of the padawan forced on him by the Jedi Council, the Council that did not trust him. His impatience with what he saw as Brienne’s many flaws. The surprise he felt the first time they crossed lightsabers.

He spoke of the love he did not recognize until it was too late to do anything about it. His love as well as hers. His fear of what loving him would do to Brienne, how someone so filled with honor could never live the same kind of double life that had almost destroyed him. How he thought he needed to be cruel to be kind to her, to send her back the Jedi fold, sadder but wiser.

How he had wept when he found that she had fled in the night. How he had visited her homeworld many times, hoping that he would find her there, amidst the endless white beaches and sapphire seas.

Jaime talked and talked until his voice was almost gone. And as he talked, he prepared his mind for the confrontation to come.

Eventually, Jaime ran out of words. Exhausted, he slept.

When Jaime came to, he felt the familiar disturbance in The Force that meant that his sister was near. Once he had longed to feel that ripple along all his senses. Now it filled him with dread. 

What would Cersei want with him? Could he mask his reawakened abilities from her well enough to escape and warn the Rebels of the existence of this new base weapon?

Was there any hope of saving Brienne?

The hatch slid open, and his sister stalked in, attended by Phasma and the Knights of the Sith. 

Attired in stiff black robes decorated with rubies, Cersei glowed like a dark star. Her golden hair had been cropped short, emphasizing her long neck and high cheekbones. If Jaime had not known her true age, he would have thought her not long past girlhood. She had been using the power of the Dark Side to preserve her youth and beauty for years. Another thing he had been blind to.

Cersei came to him, trussed up in the chair like a captured ewok, and ran her hands over his arms and up to his face.

“Leave us.” Cersei snapped out the order. 

All the Sith obeyed, all but one.

Phasma stood stock still, her head cocked to one side. 

“Your Majesty, …” She began.

“I said out! Are you as stupid as a blurgg in addition to being ugly as one?”

Phasma seemed to collapse in on herself, even in all her armor. “Yes, Your Majesty.”

As the hatch shut behind her, Jaime observed, “You never did know how to treat the help, did you, Cersei?”

The slap came swift and sharp. 

“That is no way to speak to your ruler!”

“You are no ruler of mine, sister. I am a free man of the Galactic Republic. And will be until I die.”

“You will change your tune, sweet brother when I am finished with you. You will finally be ready to take your place by my side … as my concubine. Robert had all his mindless whores, why should I not have one of my own?”

“So you think to break my will, then keep me around for my cock?”

“Why not? It was always the best part of you. And I wouldn’t have to listen to your tiresome agonizing over your Jedi duty just to be able to use it. It’s a perfect solution.”

“For you, perhaps, sister.”

“Of course, for me. Is there anyone else?”

Cersei’s smile now had an even sharper cutting edge to it. She could probably flay her victims with it alone.

“You cannot break me, Cersei. You tried for years, you and Father. Yes, I finally realized what it was you were doing. You could not succeed even when I was still in thrall to your cunt. If you could not succeed back when you were fresh and ripe and smelled of flowers and the salt sea, how can you believe you will break me now when you’re dry and bitter and stink of day old cum?”

The next slap was even harder.

Cersei changed her tactics. 

“Were you happy to see your great beast, brother? I must thank you for supplying her. She was meant to be my destruction. I was given a vision by the Dark Side to warn me of her. I thought I would merely have her killed, but you delivered her to me like a name day present. It was so simple to drive you two apart, to plant the seeds and watch what grew destroy your affection, your trust. You were both so afraid of failing as Jedi, of surrendering to your emotions. I had worked hard to make you so afraid, I know, but your fear was nothing compared to hers.”

“She was so bereft from your rejection, wandering from system to system, trying to help the small folk who the great Jedi had forgotten. She made it easy to track her, even easier to capture her. After a year under Gregor’s care and tutelage - you do remember Gregor, don’t you, brother - Brienne Merazur was gone and in her place stood my creation, Captain Phasma, a brute, a bully, an emissary of darkness and my will. So much more useful a creature than that ugly bitch playing at being a Jedi.”

“You were never worthy to touch the sole of Brienne’s boot, even if you could have stretched up high enough to reach it.”

“Really? Did you know her at all, brother? Oh, the nights I’ve spent telling her all about the times we were together, how you kiss, how you lick, how you fuck. Even through all that metal, I can feel the heat of her excitement, hear her breath quicken at the thought of what we did together. Perhaps I’ll even let her watch us once you are properly trained again.”

Cersei released the fastenings on her gown and let it drop to the floor. She stood in all her naked glory before him, displaying herself like some Lysian pleasure droid. She leaned over him, her breasts pressed against his chest as her hand trailed slowly down Jaime’s body.

“You aren’t convincing me, sister,” Jaime said, his voice perfectly calm and even, unmoved. “You don’t want a lover. You never truly did, even when you rode my cock and screamed my name. What is your purpose here?”

Cersei stepped back from him, all seductiveness draining from her. She met his eyes for a long time, measuring. She reached down and raised her gown to cover herself again.

Then Cersei reached out with one of her long fingernails and drove it into his cheek, scratching, to open a gash on his face.

Jaime startled and pulled back as far as he could.

She held her hand up, blood dripping down from the razor sharp point to collect in a cleverly designed wrist unit.

“This is what I want from you, brother — only this. I need an heir to my Empire. Already the vultures are circling to see who will pick over my bones should I fall. Others still seek to rule me through a place in my bed. They think that I don’t see their plots, hear their whispers. They think the weak offspring they could get on me would be fit to rule after me. Only another leoni will follow me, a full-blooded Lannistar with the power of our family line coursing through his veins.”

“The one request I denied you, even at the height of your dominion over me,” Jaime said.

“Yes, for all the good your willfulness did you. I’ve even beaten you at this, beaten you at everything. Once Qyburn has this sample, he will make me a child fit to rule a thousand galaxies.”

“I thought you were to make Brienne your heir in the Sith? She certainly seems to believe so.”

“She remains as great a fool as ever. As if someone so hideous could ever follow in my footsteps. She will outlive her usefulness once the Rebellion is quashed.”

“If you have what you wanted, then kill me and be done with it. I’ve no desire to listen to more of your mad ravings.”

“Not yet, brother. Not until you’re broken. Not until you have given up every scrap of information about Snow and his followers. Perhaps even then I’ll keep you alive long enough to meet our son, long enough to be his first kill. Or should my son kill her first? I would enjoy watching as you hear her final scream and know that you have lost everything.”

“Think about that, brother, while you wait. I’ll send Gregor to you next. He may have more success in extracting information from you.”

***

A long time passed. Jaime waited. Once he was sure he was unobserved, he released himself from the restraints of the discipline chair. Even the cleverest design of Cersei’s torturers was child’s play to a Jedi Master.

Jaime had almost managed to bypass the safeguards on the hatch when he felt a series of tremors ripple through the base weapon. Snow and the rebels did not have anything like the firepower to make a dent in a station this large. Something must be attacking from within.

The hatch slid open before Jaime could even think of defense.

She still wore her armor. The cape drooped limply from her shoulder. But the helmet was missing.

One side of her face bore a network of scars, her cheek looking like some vicious beast had ripped into it with sharp teeth. With what he remembered about Gregor and his predilections, that was entirely possible.

But her eyes were still as bright as gemstones, as deep as the sapphire waters of her home planet.

“Brienne.” He breathed out her name on a sigh.

“Come on, Master Lannistar. We haven’t much time. The charges I set will only occupy the Empress’s forces for so long.”

Brienne handed him a Sith Lord robe. As he donned it, she covered her head again with that cursed helmet. Then she led him through a series of corridors into the hanger bay.

“Take that one,” she said, pointing to a mid-size bomber. “Once you get to safe distance, target the reactor port on the weapon dish. I entered the coordinates. The cascade will destroy the station in a matter of seconds.”

“The shields?” He asked.

“What do you think those charges were for? You have to hurry. I sabotaged your sister’s transport, but I don’t know how long that will last. If Cersei survives, this will all have been in vain.”

Jaime grabbed the helmet on either side, trying to see into it, to see Brienne. 

“Come with me.”

“I can’t. It won’t be safe.” The agony in her voice echoed even through the metallic tones of the vocal filter.

“I can feel the conflict within you, Brienne. You can regain yourself. I’ll help you. You don’t have to die.” Pleading colored Jaime’s voice.

Between them, they stripped the helmet off and threw it to the ground.

“It’s too strong. I can already feel it, Jaime, the darkness. It’s already reclaiming me. Please go. For me. Let me die while I’m still Brienne Merazur again. Let me die in the light.”

Jaime pressed his lips desperately to Brienne’s. A single kiss. A single meeting of lips and minds and hearts. Then he turned and ran to the bomber.

Jaime wasn’t sure how he got into the pilot’s seat and made it out of the base weapon. He was a targeting distance before he had a moment free to think. As he locked in the coordinates, he reached out with his senses. 

There, just there. A flicker of deepest blue. He felt her struggle. He felt her fading.

With tears streaming down his face, Jaime Lannistar, Jedi Master, fired.


End file.
